


My name

by blackstar



Series: Unexpected [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Awkward Stiles, Blow Jobs, First Time, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, POV Stiles, Porn, Porn With Plot, Prostitute Derek, but with plot to come, but you know, probably, still adorable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 23:15:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackstar/pseuds/blackstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Touching you feels good. You touching me feels good. So so good.” Stiles mumbled, half-embarrassed and too-far gone to care.</p><p>“So touch we will.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	My name

**Author's Note:**

> My adorable sis Deya ( http://beyond-remedy.tumblr.com/ ) was feeling down yesterday so I wrote her a smutty sterek fic in the hopes that it would cheer her up. I hope it does. Even though I kinda suck at it. 
> 
> Anyway, the tags say it all I guess. Enjoy :D

He had literally never been more nervous than right now. 

Okay, maybe one or two times but never, ever like this. He was standing in front of the huge rolling door of the Mells Hotel with a single key in his hand, a hundred dollars in his back pocket (just in case), his phone (on vibrate) in his front pocket and nothing else. And he wouldn’t go as far as calling the nausea in his belly “butterflies” exactly… extremely angry, vicious mutant zombie-butterflies, maybe yes.  
Oh god, everything is a mess and, this time for a change, it’s Scott’s fault. 

Still he stands alone as people pass him by giving him weird looks (and, see – if they know why he’s there, they’ve done it too, right? So cut the judging out, will ya, random people?) because he came 15 minutes earlier, as he does. Beautiful women on the arms of wealthy-looking men in expensive suits come out of shiny cars, sometimes more discreetly men with men or women with women but all of them look stunning, as if they’re going to go into a ball room and dance the whole night in elegant circles around each other. 

The truth is, exactly like the flimsy awkward-looking Stiles, they’re just there to get laid. 

You see, the Mells Hotel is infamous with its lush interior, shiny, expensive décor and beautifully skilled prostitutes. Companions, if you will. Escorts. Same stuff. You pay for their time, their attention and finally – their bodies.  
It was Scott’s brilliant idea that Stiles’ present for his twenty-first birthday would be exactly that – a night to remember with a skilled prostitute of Stiles’ choosing. Because nothing gives a man confidence like saying “Here, I paid for this person to have sex with you because you obviously can’t get any by yourself. Enjoy.” He WAS indeed furious at Scott for doing this but he didn’t want to waste the money and his self-confidence wasn’t that high up to begin with. Why not shatter it completely? 

He was checking his phone for the maybe four hundredth time when he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. His insides did a spectacular, and, again, nauseating, backward flip as he turned around to meet the (painfully beautiful) eyes of someone, who he suspected must have gotten the wrong person. It couldn’t be Drake, the guy he was supposed to meet, because no way in hell five hundred dollars could be enough to grant him even a few minutes with this creature, let alone hours or the whole night. In the profile page he looked stunning but the real-life charisma was overwhelming. He imagined begging this picture of an extremely hot angel to just spare him a glance for five hundred bucks. And yet. 

“George?” he asked. And that was his fake name, the one he gave in order to not be embarrassed that he was in such a desperate need of attention (sex). He breathed out, maybe a bit too noisily, and nodded hard, maybe too many times. Whatever, he was new at this, he could get a free pass. Drake held up his key and flashed Stiles a smile and now Stiles was distracted by this wonderful man’s hands, which were, wow, huge, and the smile – by god, unfair; and his eyes again because what color IS that; and those cheekbones are so extremely well-defined maybe he’d cut himself while kissing them and WOAH kissing this magnificent creature, how did he get here?  
Maybe Scott deserved a thank-you note after all. 

The deal with the prostitutes in Mells was that as you paid and made an appointment, you received a key. That key fitted to the door of only one section of one floor in the hotel. Your companion for the night received another, different key, which opened a particular room in the section, your room for your stay. Every section consisted of about 4 or 5 rooms from what Stiles had gathered, and he had absolutely no idea why any of that was necessary. I mean, the forums said it brought about “mystique” or a sense of matching with the other part of your sex-equation. Still, the magic was lost on Stiles and he fumbled while trying to unlock the door of their section on the third floor. He panicked for a second, thinking something was wrong with everything (wasn’t it anyway, he was going to have sex with this, maybe literally, piece of art. HIM, Stiles Stilinski. What was wrong with the world?) before managing to open the door and throwing Drake a grin. 

Drake wiggled his key in hand in response and smiled back and Stiles forgot what breathing was for a second while he followed his probably imaginary companion for the night. 

“So, you’re here a lot?” Stiles asked, because he was generally a complete idiot. Drake smiled a sly smile and answered in a low voice

“Doesn’t matter tonight, does it?” he made it sound so special, so extraordinary that Stiles believed it for a second and his heart took a leap into the unknown in his ribcage. Then he got a hold of himself and congratulated Drake on his diverting techniques. Drake had already stepped next to one of the doors in the sections (they all had weird names instead of numbers; they went inside of one, labeled “Full moon” and Stiles wondered what kind of innuendo that might be) and unlocked it and gestured for Stiles to go in first. 

It was still so, so very awkward to step into that room and not know what to do with himself. He wondered if he should maybe look around, see how the bathroom is, throw his clothes around as he would do if he were alone, but decided against it. So he stood there, two steps into the hotel room, with the strong sensation of a warm body in close proximity to his own. Of a hot, hot body in close proximity, to be exact. 

“You can relax, George, it’s just the two of us here” Drake said in, again, this low and extremely attractive voice and shivers ran up Stiles’ back. He turned around. 

“Um. Uh. Actually. My name’s not George.” Drake’s eyebrow lifted and it, indeed, was beautiful in new levels, but Stiles put his hands up in defense “I mean, yes I am George, the one who… you know, you were supposed to… uh… meet. You know, downstairs.” Drake nodded. “But um. My actual name’s not George. Nowhere near. I hate that name actually. I know this one George from my home town and he’s an absolute douche and I never want to be anything like him, like, ever. And just saying his name is making everything even more awkward, you know? And I don’t know why I am telling you all this. I’m sorry; I ramble when I’m nervous.” Drake seemed to want to say something but Stiles kept going “Scratch that, I ramble all the time. Ask anyone. I’m horrible at this whole, uh, having a dialogue deal. I mostly just let my mind wander. And I don’t seem to have a good-enough filter to- HOLY GOD. What’s happening?” 

Drake chuckled as he threw his coat on an open door. 

“It’s warm inside, I’m getting comfortable. Aren’t you hot as well?” 

“Getting straight to the point, huh? Wow. Sorry, it’s just, uh, my first time? Like, with… uh.”

“With a paid companion?”

“That too. With anyone at all actually. That’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Not really, it isn’t.” Drake smiled again, stepping a bit closer. “So how do I call you?”

“Huh?” the time of two slow blinks “Oh! Me. Yes. My name is Stiles.” To which Drake outright laughed, stepping a step back. “No, really, everyone calls me that.” He can feel himself blushing now and god, this is so embarrassing he’s not sure if it’s going to be worth it. With his eyes glued to the floor, Drake’s hand on his cheek takes him completely by surprise. 

“I believe you. It’s just a weird name, sorry.” He murmurs as he’s getting closer. And then his eyes are fluttering close and holy god, is this really happening? 

His lips are so soft and so un-soft at the same time in the very, very best way. It’s not like any other kiss he’d shared with girls or boys through the years (and maybe it’s just that – they were boys and girls and he’s a man, full-blown gorgeous perfectly-sculpted man.) and it takes all of his will to not just flop on top of Drake, begging for more, for everything. When they part, he surprises himself by finding that he did close his eyes too. When – it’s a mystery. Stiles takes a deep breath and just enjoys being so close to another human in this way; so close he feels Drake’s breath on his mouth, his heat all over his body. Wow. 

“So. Stiles.” Drake says and gets even closer “Remember how we talked about getting more comfortable?”

“Yeah?” Stiles croaks because his nickname has never sounded better from anyone, not even from Lydia. And he had been in love with Lydia and everything she did was perfect to him. Well, new achievement unlocked. Getting hard from a kiss and listening to your name being spoken. Good job, Stilinski. 

“We can go to the bedroom and get our clothes out of the way, if you’d like.” 

“Oh, yeah. Clothes, yeah. That’s a good idea. Great.” Stiles stumbles with the idea of Drake without his clothes on and wonders which way the bedroom is (because he doesn’t want to peel his eyes away from Drake’s mouth or face or just him) when strong hands guide him through an open door inside a more dimly-lit room. Drake’s eyes never leave his and that’s even sexier than the kiss in a way. 

The hands don’t move away then. Instead, they move all over Stiles’ torso until they find the buttons of his plaid button-down shirt. One by one, the buttons pop and Stiles knows that just from feeling it because he just plain refuses to watch something as boring as himself when he can watch Drake. There is this tiny voice in his head that suggests that watching Drake unbutton his shirt with his hands all over his chest probably is extremely hot as well, but he still decides against it, for better or worse. 

When the final button is out of the way, warm palms find their way inside and roam over his flesh. His whole body tenses and he shivers with the surprising gentleness and smoothness of the hands. Maybe he moans a little bit, quietly. 

“Can… Can I, too?” he asks and reaches for Drake before the answer has come. Under the jacket that he removed earlier, Drake has a white button-down that’s tucked in his pants. Stiles pulls it up so it’s free from the pants and then quickly, without Drake’s finesse, undoes every button. His mouth waters when he sees Drake’s body, sculptured, he guesses, with a lot, a whole lot of hard work. He tries to imitate what Drake was doing to his own torso and let his hands wander all over the exposed flesh. It was, on a very distant level, very awkward, he guessed. Maybe for an outsider. But all he could feel was excitement and arousal and desire for more as he accidentally caught a nipple with one of his nails and got a hiss and a hip thrust in his direction in return. 

Stiles stepped closer and leaned in a bit, pressing his mouth to Drake’s pecks, slowly and close-mouthed in the beginning, and, with the growing hunger in him, faster and sloppier. He didn’t know why exactly he enjoyed lapping at a stranger’s skin, except that Drake made those sounds that were just mind-blowing and also he tasted really good in a really undefinable way. Wow, anyway. 

He found, with surprise, that both their shirts were on the floor by now, when he looked up, probably Drake’s doing. Stiles was grateful for it, as it saved time. 

“Can I? I… don’t…” Stiles, confused, muttered, as he wanted more, more out of everything until now, more new things, more of Drake. He found his face cupped in Drake’s hands a second later, as the gorgeous not-likely-human being whispered calmingly

“It’s okay, we have all the time in the world.” Stiles, in his mind, remarked that they did not have all the time in the world but just a couple of hours, but it was a fleeting thought. “You can do whatever you want.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Stiles leaned in and kissed him to try it out. Apparently, it worked, as his lips were being parted by a warm tongue. He moaned yet again. 

“See? All the time.” Drake said quietly after the kiss broke. “Do you want me to help you through it or do you have an exact idea of what you want to do?”

“Um.” Stiles’ mind wandered around through all the possibilities until they flooded his mind and nothing made sense. He shook his head. “I have no idea. None. No, that’s a lie, see, I have too many ideas and I don’t know what to do with them.” Drake chuckled and pressed his thumb against Stiles’ lips. 

“That’s okay too. We’ll just see what feels good, right?”

“Touching you feels good. You touching me feels good. So so good.” Stiles mumbled, half-embarrassed and too-far gone to care. 

“So touch we will.” Drake said and pressed Stiles closer to him, their bodies flush against each other. Stiles panted, hard and desperate, looking for more, for release, for a taste. “You want to get rid of our pants?” Stiles nodded and reached for his button and zipper but was stopped by Drake’s hands. “I have an idea, wait.” He said, winking. 

Drake then proceeded to kneel in front of Stiles, his hands sliding with him until they were on the button of Stiles’ pants. Lean fingers undid the button and slid the zipper down and then pulled at the fabric until the pants were nothing but a pool of cloth at Stiles’ feet. He noticed he still had his shoes on at the same time that he noticed his knees were growing weaker. 

Stiles’ eyes met Drake’s as the older man mouthed at Stiles’ underwear, right over his painfully erect cock. Wow, was that hot. The only thing actually keeping Stiles from coming right there and then was his huge desire for more, right now. Instead, he threaded his fingers in Drake’s hair because that was the easiest way he could think to keep him upright. 

Drake pulled his boxers down as well until they were wrapped around his calves loosely and then smiled a wicked grin, looking up. That was right about the time when Stiles lost the battle to keep himself solid on his feet and instead fell back. He wasn’t sure there would be anything to soften the fall but – guess what – turns out he was standing in front of the bed. Maybe Drake had positioned them like that on purpose, he guessed, because he wasn’t anywhere near that lucky. 

In this new position, Drake’s face was closer, sexier still, and his every move between Stiles’ legs felt so much more real. If this was a dream, Stiles would have woken up by now. He never had such good dreams. 

While he had tried many, many different ways of jerking off, and mastered most of them, as well as the art of keeping quiet because of dad/Scott, he couldn’t stop the loud half-gasp half-moan that went out of his mouth when Drake’s mouth first enveloped his cock. The warm wet sensation of it was nothing like what he’d previously felt and it was so much better than any of it, he couldn’t put it into words. And then, when he finally opened his eyes, just to stare into the perfect abyss of Drake’s greenish-colored eyes, he couldn’t help it and with just a little tug on his hair to let Drake know, apart from the heavy grunt of pleasure, Stiles came. 

Half of his come went inside of Drake’s mouth and Stiles was incredibly sorry and so incredibly not at the same time, the other half on his chin and upper chest. Still riding his high, he reached out with the fingers of one hand and just touched Drake’s skin near his lips. 

“Wow.” He muttered after a minute, still breathing hard, his eyes never leaving Drake as the man cleaned himself a bit and threw his pants away. Drake threw him a smile as he stalked closer again, a bulge in his boxers glaringly visible. 

“Want to rest now for a bit?” he asked, the smile lingering on his face. Stiles shook his head adamantly. 

“No way in hell. That was too good to not want to try. Sorry for… uh, coming like that.”

“Don’t apologize.” Stiles reached out and tugged Drake close again until he could kiss him, the orgasm making him care less and want more. He made his way through Drake’s throat and torso with many kisses and little bites, leaving his marks (was that even allowed?) until he got to his treasure trail. 

“Do you mind?” he asked, even though he suspected there couldn’t be a negative answer to this question. Drake smiled and shook his head, caressing Stiles’ face with one hand. 

“Don’t strain yourself too much, though. It looks easier than it is.” Stiles nodded and started working, him between Drake’s legs in the exact same position that they were in before, roles reversed. He first licked at the underwear, trying to mimic the man but soon growing tired of the feel of fabric and craving the taste of Drake. He pulled at the boxers until he could take them off completely and then reveled in the sight of Drake’s erection. 

Stiles looked up to find Drake staring at him intently and found himself blushing an angry red. 

“Um, can you…” he looked away and then looked back to Drake, placing both of his palms on Drake’s abdomen and pushing slightly “Can you please not watch?” he croaks and then huffs a tiny laugh to himself “This is really embarrassing. Like, really.” Drake gives in to the push and lies back down, a smile playing on his face. 

“Don’t worry, Stiles. I’m not one to judge.” Stiles is secondarily reminded that he’s doing all of this thanks to a birthday present and without any real feelings and this is nothing like he imagined his first time being but then discards the thought and opens his mouth, taking Drake’s length in. It really is harder than it looks (haha, harder, get it?) and he swallows around maybe half of Drake’s erection before feeling a bit overwhelmed. Instead of freaking out or gagging though, he calms himself with the thought that Drake can’t see him and he can do this. He plays around with his tongue a bit, trying to figure out which moves get the best sounds out of Drake. Because Drake IS very vocal, all cut-short moans and grunts and tiny noises of approval. Sometimes he even whispers Stiles’ name and that shouldn’t be that sexy but it still is. 

One of the times Stiles comes up for air, he decides to go further and licks a stripe all the way from underneath Drake’s cock to the tip of it. That gets him a loud moan and he smiles contentedly. He feels kind of weird that he came within a minute of Drake pulling down his boxers but it still brings a new sort of pleasure to be the one providing it. And maybe Drake is faking all the awesome sounds Stiles thinks he’s getting out of him but maybe he isn’t. And if he isn’t, that makes Stiles ultra awesome for achieving something like that. 

“Drake? Any pointers?” he asks before going down again, swallowing what he can from Drake’s length. Drake grunts and pulls him up by the hair. 

Before Stiles’ surprised yelp can even end, Drake is up and so is Stiles and next thing he knows, they’re both lying on the bed, Stiles trapped in a cage made up entirely of Drake’s hot, hot body. Drake's hand is fitting Stiles’ newly-formed erection against his, holding them together and oh god- 

“OH GOD! OH MY---” Stiles gasps, clinging to Drake’s hand – the first thing he managed to grab. His head rolls back as his whole body arches up towards Drake and isn’t that just THE actual best feeling yet? “DRAKE. OH MY GOD. Drake, you have to, oh man, Drake, you have to give me a second.” Sties breathes hard against Drake’s neck as the older man slows them to an almost-stop. 

“Stiles.” He says lowly, a question almost in his tone

“Yeah? Still here. Yep, I’m all here. Mm.”

“Stiles, focus for a second.”

“Focused. Completely. What is it, buddy? Sorry, not buddy, not calling you buddy again, Drake, sorry--”

“My name is Derek.” He whispers next to Stiles’ ear and then bites his neck as he starts rolling his body against a dumbfounded Stiles once more.

**Author's Note:**

> It's not beta'd so do tell if there are any annoying mistakes I made. 
> 
> Also, I hope I write something to continue this because I can see the story being so fluffy and smutty and really extremely porny that I don't want it to end like this. Knowing me, though, not sure I'm going to actually manage a sequel.  
> I promise I'll try, for all that it matters. 
> 
> Hope that you liked it!
> 
> / You can come say hi in tumblr if you want - http://wishingonablackstar.tumblr.com/ .w.


End file.
